


Don't Fear the Reaper

by susiephalange



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Captain America Civil War Spoilers, Child Abuse, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Fluff, Ghosts, Healing, Mutant Powers, Mystery, Pre-Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7313383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susiephalange/pseuds/susiephalange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Working alongside the Avengers is a dream for you, the ex-X-man with healing abilities. But when you start to find yourself on the wrong side of some things that are quite strange indeed, it all seems to go downhill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baby I'm Your Man

**Author's Note:**

> Don't call me a freak because of this. It literally backhanded me over the head one day, and I HAD to write it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader appeared into the Avengers after the dreaded Sokovia incident, and has never met Wanda's brother. All Reader knows is something is defiantly up with the Scarlet Witch - why else would Wanda talk to herself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't intended to be mutliple parts, but enjoy!

Some days, it would be normal. Well, as normal as the Avengers could get; it wasn't exactly a picnic when a group of superheroes came together to crash in the Avengers facility in upstate New York.

Everyone was their own person. But, to be honest, and frank, it like living in a damn sitcom. What, with Tony's tinkering would wake the team at ungodly hours, and on Sunday morning Thor would shock everyone out of their celebratory hangovers with his baritone rumble. Even Steve got in on the drama; he would make the new training Avengers follow a strict diet (which you, Sam, Wanda and Vision begrudgingly ate...but also snuck powdered doughnuts in to substitute cheat day to be everyday).

But a very not normal thing was going on.

Something very not normal. At all.

You happened to notice this occurrence only because of the one thing which made you the reserve Avenger. Thanks to your freakishly weird mutation that Charles Xavier trained you to manage before you left the X-Men's yellow and black spandex for an Avenger ID card. You, ________ ________, had been known for reasons scientifically unknown, to possess a gene to heal people ... as well as _resurrect_ them.

But the latter? That had one-time thing, an accident, when Bobby fried himself with the toaster. A one off.

Sure, you weren't a regular miracle, and Nat and Clint made sure there was no need for Reaper to make an appearance (you really disliked the codename, you didn't kill people) but it had its perks where it did. Seeing as you were fully trained for combat, _thank you Mr Summers_ \- you had to wait your turn on the sidelines for speciality tuning.

Which, by pure happenstance and accident, was when you noticed the strange, not normal, very peculiar goings-on going on with Wanda.

Quietly, as if she was talking to someone beside her, she'd gesture and animate her face with a variety of emotions. She would talk, aloud, in her head, in all variations of tones. The first time it happened, you wondered if it could be a fluke. Wanda Maximoff was an enigma wrapped up in a burrito of strange. But, the sixteenth time that month, and you were starting to wonder about Wanda.

"Hey - is it a bad time to talk?" Turning, you find you're face to face with a slightly sweating Sam. Obviously, he's taken three rounds to many with an angry rhinoceros, or has been in hand to hand with Cap.

You shake your head. "Nope. Just waiting. What's on your mind, Sammy?"

He smiles. You're the only one on the team who calls him that without being disputed. "Same thing that's on your brain, Reaper. She sure talks a lot to her self, don't you think?"

You lay your head on your knees, and look at her. _Really_ look at Wanda, like a Men in Black agent or a pet owner trying to suss out what their rambunctious puppy did to their poor living room.

"...Sam," you breathe, "you've worked with people with PTSD and stuff, right? In your support group back in DC?"  You turn to him. His face is beaded in sweat, eyes wide.

Sam nods. "Just because I have a support group doesn't mean I'm the freaking angel on your shoulder, gorgeous." He smirks. "But yeah. PTSD is common along the usuals for Vets." 

From the corner of your eye, you see Wanda nudge the thin air, as if she's shoving someone for a remark.

"I think Wanda is seeing her brother's ghost," you whisper.

There's a shout from the mat, and just at that moment, you witness Thor's arm twisted backwards by Steve; only to be accompanied by a resounding _crack!_ Your face pales - even though you were trained back to front on your abilities, and had been doing it for years, it still felt almost sick to be used as a healer for those who shouldn't have been hurt _that_ badly on a training mat.

"That's my call!" you wink to Sam.

"Knock 'em dead, Reaper," he laughs, shoving you off. "But don't actually kill them. That would look _bad_ as f-,"

You roll your eyes. "Dude, my CV is perfect. I've got to heal an Asgardian before he tries to set his own broken bone again."  
  


 

 

The next day is Steve's cheat day, and you meet Wanda at the breakfast bar. Her slim hands are deft, quickly making rum-balls out of chocolate biscuits. Her fingers make it look almost like an elegant dance. Beside her, Vision watches vigilantly, aiding her in her cooking by passing the coconut and rolling them into the tray. You're still not sure if the pair of them are exactly that, a couple, but love happens where it does.

"Hey, Wanda? Is now a bad time to, uh, talk to you?" You wonder.

The brunette raised her head. "I'm free! What's wrong, ________? Did Steve send you to steal all of my rum-balls?"

Vision's face darkens into a deep frown. "I will protect these balls with my life. They are helpless, defenseless. And tasty."

You shake your head at the android and his girlfriend-to-be. "No, no, Steve didn't send me, I sent me. Not for rum-balls at all. I'm here to, okay, don't think I'm being rude or mean, but..." Your voice trails off, "I've seen you talking some days, and nobody is there. Who -,"

Wanda waves you off. "Don't you worry, I'm not crazy just yet. It's my brother. I can see my brother."

You frown. "The one I read about?"

"I forget often that you were not a part of the team when the Maximoff twins were aboard," Vision's frown relaxes. "You read quite in depth about Wanda's speedy brother."

You blush. "He had a quite expansive skill set," you admit, and deflecting their gaze, "But not like you, Wanda. You're literally the definition of superhero."

Wanda rolls her eyes. "Though that flattery will get you nowhere in the world, I say...to hell with that. Thank you, my friend. I think my brother lik - would have liked you well."  
  


 

 

It's midnight when your dreams are interrupted with a surge in your veins. Dumbfounded, you try and walk off this buzz in your blood, returning to the kitchen where you learned most probably the strangest thing since Tony portal jumping _in broad daylight._ Were ghosts even real? How could Wanda see her brother, was -

Your thoughts are disjointed by a ... _glowing_? The first thing you could think of was Bruce Banner and his multitudes of experiments, then the problematic Tesseract. But as you turned the corner to the lounge area beside the kitchen, you stop.

And stare.

Wanda Maximoff is asleep on the armchair, snuggled under a fluffy comforter with a book open across her chest. It's _Tolstoy._

But she, the Scarlet Witch isn't the cause of the abnormality for once.

Standing before her, is a pale, eerie form, iridescent in the moonlight. You know the handsome face of this man from somewhere, but all you can see is this perfect human, strung with lithe muscles and windswept white hair. He wears clothing, just as translucent as himself. But all of him, all that he is, he is _alight._

His eyes turn to you.

The man, no, the ghost before you is Pietro Maximoff.

"Holy -," you whisper. At once, everything seems to be ringing in your ears. Everything that you were thinking about, dreaming about, ever taking or breathing or being about in your years prior to this moment turns to a screeching white noise that bleeds into your brain. _He's here, he's real, he's here_ -

And suddenly, you're falling toward him.

The carpet had been rumpled, and now, you're falling _into_ Pietro Maximoff - almost to completely be a part of his glowing ghost form. His face warps from a serene gaze into one of almost horror ...

and that's where it ends.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

-

 

Your eyes open at once, and burn at the brightness of the white light. What kind of sane person has a white lamp - you're in the hospital wing. It explains the people sleeping around your bed, and the baggy blue nightdress and the ugly hospital blankets. It would explain the casual twin beeping of the heart monitors, and the footsteps of Dr Cho approaching.

"_________! You're awake!" she beams.

On both sides of the bedside, the team snap awake. Sam looks like he hasn't moved from the bedside, and the same for Wanda.

Wanda.

_Pietro!_

"I saw a ghost," you blurt out. "Of Pietro Maximoff last night, and -,"

Steve hides his yawn behind his big hand. "That was four weeks ago, _______. We've missed our Reaper."

Natasha agrees. "I broke my wrist two days ago. Hey, now you're awake, you can heal me!"

Clint scowls, reprimanding his battle partner. "Let her wake up, Tash."

Your head is spinning, mouth dry and eyes wide. _Four weeks? That's almost a whole - it's a month! I've been asleep -_

Bruce Banner brings you back from your panicked thoughts with a touch of your wrist. "It wasn't as abnormal as you would believe, ________. Your mutation, it ... how do it put it?" The scientist frowns.

"See for yourself," Tony slides back, and withdraws the curtain to the bed beside you. "Morning, Speedy."

Your eyes widen.

In the bedsheets, is _not_ the ghost of Pietro Maximoff, he's undoubtedly alive. And playing solitaire with himself on the removable hospital bed ledge. His light eyes catch yours, and he gives you a smile.

"Hello, ________." He greets, waving. "Thank you for bringing me back to my sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pietro Maximoff gives us all the feels ツ


	2. Baby Take My Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a side effect occurring for resurrecting Pietro, and it's taking its toll on you. Will there be any hope to heal the healer, before it's too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested to do a sequel-chapter (not sure if from Wattpad or here) but here it is.

The following week, you stay in the bed. The doctors all say you're fine - a freak medical miracle! - but you don't _feel_ fine. You feel - something. Off? Dazed? It's like you've touched something so pure and raw and you're blinded in the aftermath of the fallout. But no matter what, you're in bed. And everyone, naturally, is worried. 

Outside your door, Tony and Clint exchange words as if you can't hear them through the thin walls. "What is - something is wrong with _______."

"Dude, she just woke up from a coma," Tony chastens him. "Don't be that guy."

Clint must have shrugged, because that was a very Clint thing to do. Then, "Okay, but someone has to wake her out of whatever she's in. It's like she's...I don't know, dying too? She hasn't spoken in days, Tony."

There's a knock, and you turn to the door. Slowly, you sit up a little in the bed, and flick the switch that Tony installed behind your bedhead, that allows entry to people when you're awake. Tony, and Clint enter, just like your ears had picked up. They're wearing their work-out gear for training, and for a moment you wonder if you can suggest to Clint to wear a sweatband over his forehead. It look quite becoming on him.

"Kiddo?" Tony sits on the end of your bed, and lays a hand on your legs through the sheets. "How are you feeling today?"

For a moment, you consider using sign language, it hurts so much to process words, even think them. What happened to your wordy self who had woken up a week ago? "I'm - tired," you whisper. "How's - how is - Pietro?" you wonder.

The Iron Man gives a wide smile. "He's been wondering if you'd ask for him, Pietro's been bugging us all day to see you." Tony touches a button on his watch, and a holographic projection comes over his face. "Alright, Speedy, you're allowed in." 

Clint moves to the side, just as a blue blur rushes to where he had been only seconds ago. "______! Hello! I was wondering if you'd like to talk, or play cards, or both?" the speedster asked you. 

"I'd - love to," you whisper.

Tony claps his hands. "Perfect. Hawkass and I'll just take a hike, leave you two crazy kids to your devices. You want Wanda and Vizh to come in too?" he asks the pair of you quickly. 

"No, thank you," Pietro shakes his head.

 

 

 

"I think I am - dying," you confide in Pietro, just as the door clicks shut behind the two Avengers. You can't bear to watch Pietro's face fall, and you whisper quietly, "I don't want - to die."

He nods. "I know. I watched you, when Wanda summoned me," he blurts, a blush tainting his cheeks, "I fell in love with you, ______. I don't want you to die, either." You feel your face redden at his confession, but before you can comfort the fastest man alive in this universe, he adds, "I wondered if you still had communications with the bald man in the school."

You nod, and gesture to the nightstand. "Professor - Xavier. My phone." 

At once, Pietro has opened your phone, and searching the contacts, dialled the number Charles Xavier had given to you for emergencies. You watch him cautiously; what kind of man, in your experience, confesses their admiration for you, and does all to save you without an ulterior motive? Okay, that was one time, and a couple of years ago, but since then you hadn't really opened up to people in a romantic way. Maybe it was caution, or just your luck, but that was to save your heart. Save your soul from hurting again.

"Hello, is this Professor Xavier?" Pietro asked the person on the other end of the line. "Yes, I know I'm calling from ______'s number, I'm Pietro Maximoff - yes, Wanda's brother." he answered the line. "Could I speak to Charles Xavier please? ______'s in trouble." 

You reach for the phone, slowly. "Let me talk," you whisper. Gently, Pietro places the phone in your hand, and you lower your head to the mouth piece. "Jean? It's me. I - need - to speak," you pause, overcome by a bout of coughing, and taking a deep breath, "I need - to speak with Charles."

Before you know it, you've spoken with your mentor, and putting the phone on loudspeaker, Pietro overhears the plans for you to arrive at the school as fast as you can, in order not to allow you to deteriorate any more. Also, before you know it, Pietro has gathered you into his arms, and with your head on his shoulder, and legs tucked under his armpit, he rushes out of the door, and out of the compound before you can take another staggered breath.

 

 

 

Upon arrival to the school, you can't help but puke in the urn by the door, as Pietro rings the bell. With every second, you watch Pietro nervously, leaning against him to stand. It's like you're wasting away with every second, slipping away to the world where you had accidentally brought him over from.

The door is answered by Jean, and following her bright hair up the stairs, Pietro carries you once again, this time slower, to the office you remember spending most of your schooling in when you had been a student. Behind his desk, is Professor Xavier, and standing, is a man in a strange cape and a strange aura. 

"That was quick," the man standing comments. "I am Dr Strange, and you must be Pietro Maximoff. I sensed your arrival back to the land of the living." At your side, Pietro nods, and steadies you slightly. "Ah, and _______, the mutant we are here for. I see your ailment, and I know what to do." 

You cough. "You - do?"

Dr Strange nods. "Yes, I have just completed the process with Logan Howlett, the Wolverine. Professor, do you have a place for Miss _______ to lay whilst I -," 

"If you would, please," Charles gestures to Jean, who in a swift movement, has levitated all on the large desk of his, and placed it on the shelves above her head. "Thank you, Miss Grey. Pietro, please place _______ onto the desk." 

As Pietro gathers you into his arms again, you can't help but wish the moment would last forever. In the way that his eyes sparkle with unshed tears, the way his lips look ajar; like they are begging to be kissed. In this moment, you wonder if he is in love with you, and how long he had loved you as a ghost, and if there was any way he could prove it to you other than what he was doing for you in that moment. It was like you had found a perfect prince charming. The man of all dreams. But you, were dying.

"Pietro," you whisper.

He swallows, and placing you upon the desk, as carefully as he can, he places a kiss upon your forehead. He lingers, breath warming your face. "It will be okay, ______."

"Okay?" you repeat back. Timidly, you reach your hand to touch his cheek. "I love - you. I t-," 

Dr Strange cracks his knuckles, startling your hand and train of thought from Pietro. "I suppose I shall grab your soul, now, shall I?" 

Before you can ask what he meant by that, or what would actually happen, or if he was an actual medically certified doctor at all, his gloved hands are placed on your midsection, and a white hot light fills your eyes. Then, 

Nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When your eyes open, you wonder if you've died. It feels like it. Your mouth tastes like mothballs, ears ringing a pretty tune. The faces you see come into focus around you; their expressions are that of people watching a miracle come true. 

"Where am I?" you whisper.

The face of Pietro Maximoff comes in to view by your side. His eyes are wet with tears, but mouth wide with a smile. "You are back at the compound. Dr Strange transported you here after the procedure."

Blinking, you see the rest of the team around the bed come in to focus. It's like a flash back of what happened the first time you blacked out; everyone is around the bed. Clint and Nat are holding hands (wait, are they cuffed together?), Steve is glowing in sweat, and so is Sam. Tony and Thor stand, leaving Bruce to sit beside Vision and Wanda. 

"Procedure? It's over?" you ask him.

Pietro nods. "When you retrieved me from the spirit world, a piece of your soul was trapped within." he notices your distress, and adds quickly, "It's all okay now. You're going to live." 

"And now you have an even stronger mutation." Nat adds. She holds up her un-cuffed hand, and grins. "You healed my wrist _in your sleep._ Bye bye clunky cast." 

Bruce nods. "It's legit. I did tests of your vitals, _______. You're practically a living battery now; you can practically heal someone anywhere from within a fifty mile radius -," 

 Tony waves him off. "Hold up with the nerd stuff. Time for emotional stuff." 

Wanda nods. "We've missed you. Don't ever leave again." 

You nod, and glance to Pietro. There's a look in his eyes that he wants the same thing you do. "Is it okay, if, the emotional lovey-dovey family hug stuff happens later? I want some time with Pietro." you request the team.

Sam nods, and starts to wave everyone away from the bed. "You heard Reaper, everyone away from Speedy and _______." 

Vision frowns, and turns to Wanda. "Are they going to kiss?"

Pietro stares at the android. "Yes. We are." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said Logan had just been to see Dr Strange? I referenced the comic book Logan died in, and had been brought back to life by the sorcerer supreme. You're welcome.


	3. Baby, She Had No Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the series catch up to Reader and Pietro, leading the pair to become more transparent with one another over a few issues with your past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested for another part, this is the last one in this story.

Somehow, in all of what had happened to Pietro and yourself, there was no way that anyone could have guessed that the media caught on. Maybe it was because Tony hadn't upgraded the cameras on base to a more secure database, or that Professor X just couldn't figure out how to shoo the paparazzi away, but there stood the big problem. A photograph of you, the once nondescript healer of the Avengers, and the now not late Pietro Maximoff. In embrace.

Nat had suggested just to ignore them, and you wished you could. She had the nerve to get up in the face of the government and walk away free because of her skill set and bad-assery. You, you - you might be able to do that in a daydream. And ignore them? It was like ignoring the fact there was a migraine eroding your brain one cell at a time into a world of pain.

"At least it's a nice shot," Pietro plops a newspaper before you. He's in a good mood, not that he had any reason to not be. He was quite the bachelor, yet, he wasn't available. It still surprised you that he chose, out of anyone in the world, you. "It could have been of a bad angle, or timing."

You nod. "Yeah, I know. It's just...now everyone's sending me letters to resurrect their cats and dead Aunts."

Pietro's eyebrows skyrocket. "They are?"

Pushing the newspaper away from you, you shrug your shoulders, "I haven't checked my mail box, but I bet they're thinking of asking. Why can't the newspapers leave us alone? I mean, we're just a couple of freaks."

He pushes you, all but throwing you face-up upon the couch. "Yeah, but sexy freaks."

"I thought I asked for you two to not snog like that in the living area," Rhodey frowns. "It's off-putting."

You lean up to see everyone's favourite War Machine. He's looking fantastic today; instead of wearing his usual polo shirt or military suit, it seems someone has coaxed him into a Hawaiian-themed button-down.

"Don't mind Sir Party Poop here," Tony Stark beams, whacking Pietro somewhat affectionately on the shoulder. "He's just a tad antsy to watch his favourite TV show in peace."

You lean up, and straightening your blouse, lean over to hand the remove to Rhodey. "It's okay, I totally understand. I adjusted the TV when Stark wasn't looking to delay a few seconds, don't you worry - you won't miss your show."

The vet beams. "Thanks, Reaper."

 

 

Hours later, when the sun has dipped down behind the mountains and the horizon too, you are woken from your shallow sleep by the voice of the man beside you in the sheets. "What did you mean by freaks?" His voice is quiet, but steady, and you catch your breath on something inside you you can't understand.

"Baby, what do you mean? I know you're awake. Your heart pitter-patters so fiercely." Pietro adds.

The sheets rustle as you turn to face the face of the man you saved, and you love. In the waning moonlight, you can faintly see the curve of his face, the way his hair shines, falling into his face like a palm tree's fan-shaped leaves. He's beautiful, despite what his past has done to him, both good and cruel alike.

"You're being sappy again," you moan, reaching for his hands.

Pietro's grasp is around your fingers, and slowly, he intertwines his digits with yours almost alike a basket weave. "That is because I love you," his Sokovian accent lingers upon his lips, making you wish you could kiss them fiercely, for the rest of eternity. "You haven't answered my question, though, frumoasa."

You groan, but this time, not because of your overwhelming desire to kiss your boyfriend. Or is it? No, no, you have all the time in the world to kiss later on. But right now, you are facing both your future, the man laying before you in The Smurfs boxers, and the past which lies within you.

"I haven't told you about my life before ... before training with Professor Xavier, have I?" you murmur.

Pietro shakes his head. "No, none. It was like to me, that you came alive from that point onward, that there was no ________ before that time."

Your chest fails to hold back a sob. "That - that I wish. That I didn't exist before. I came from a very lovely family, who had terrible ideas. My father was a politician in the senate, and one day, he came home, and had a heart attack right there, on the steps to the house." you confess.

Pietro is near silent, his fingers warm against your own.

"...I basically healed him right there where the world could see. And they did see, there were reporters on my tail. My mother hushed it quickly with the press, but still, there were rumours that I was a freak of nature ... an abomination. I dropped out of school, and barely saw eye-to-eye with my mother and father after I saved him."

"Why? You did a good thing, love," his frown-lies are embossed in the silver of the moon.

You nod. "I come from a very religious place in this country, where any miracle cannot be from God unless there is a sign, or something. They wanted me dead, I heard them praying for me one night before bed, to go back to hell. I ran away from home before -- Pietro, they called a local exorcist to perform on me, and, and it terrified me! These weren't my parents! But, I got abducted by a contact of my father ..." your throat is thick, eyes wide and heavy, and you choke out, "I was stolen from the street to use my mutation on the battlefield overseas," you weep.

Pietro's arm wrenches you toward him, and before you know it, your tears are wetting the sheets between you, his nightclothes, his skin, and you're remembering all the things you had managed to forget.

"Oh my love," he shudders, his eyes glistening in the dark. "Oh, what pain we have felt in our lives. I am so sorry to make you speak these awful words, my baby, my prinţesă." His words are heavy, bringing you back from the pictures which flash before your closed eyes, memories on fast-forward.

"But we've both died," you remind him. "I'm not the same girl as I was before, nor are you. Pain isn't something which makes us, and yes, it may break us ... but not now. We are stronger."

His nose nuzzles against yours, warming the tears you had shed. "You are right, my love." he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your lips, "You have no fear. And I have you, as much as you have me. All will be well."

You nod, leaning closer to kiss below his ear. "I love you too, my prinţ."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Romanian words used*:
> 
> frumoasa // beautiful
> 
> prinţesă // princess
> 
> prinţ // prince
> 
>  
> 
> *from Google Translate. Please tell me if they are a poor translation, it would be much appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests, find me on Tumblr at @susiephalange, or [@phalangewrites](https://phalangewrites.tumblr.com/request_conditions) ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ✿


End file.
